Erik Erikson, in Memoriam
This page is dedicated to our friend Erik Erikson. The folk dancer and Greenmarket manager, not the psychologist :-) If you have any comments or contributions please send them to us and we will try to add them to this page as soon as possible. Normally each contribution will have the contributor's name in brackets at the beginning. If you don't want to be identified, let us know and we'll put "anonymous". Click on any picture below for a larger version.
A memorial gathering was held Saturday, June 17 in Brooklyn. Click here to see pictures and commentary.
Erik was born 3/30/33 and given the name Donald Erikson. He died peacefully at home 9/17/99. Born in '33, Erik died at 66 in '99.
[Noel Kropf] Erik had many sides. Some prominent aspects come
to mind immediately. Art - he was a stained glass
artist by vocation. Architecture - he saw himself as an architect and
architectural critic. Writer - he wrote about many things, including architecture.
I don't think he was published. Music - Erik had a great ear for music and
was a wonderful fiddler and singer. Politics and economics - Erik was a
"Georgist". If you are not familiar with the ideas of Henry
George, we recommend you take a look at this biographical
sketch or the Henry George Institute.
Health and nutrition - Erik read and talked a lot about
alternative/complementary medicine and nutrition.
He accepted Gary Null as an authority and thought that the AMA stands in the way
of much progress. Physical activity - Erik was as fit and vigorous as most
people half his age. He prepared for marathon running after he turned
50. He danced with a passion. People - Erik was a talker and he
loved people. Completing things - Erik had a hard time in this
department. Often he would be working on a stained glass commission 2, 5,
or 10 years after it was "due".
Erik took time
to enjoy life.
Erik loved to sing and make music. He also liked to
entertain others. At music and dance events he often volunteered as the Master
of Ceremonies. At a swing/contra dance put on by Fiddle and Dance
(Jay
Ungar and friends) at Ashokan, Erik and Noel sing a Bulgarian racenica:
Ogrejala Mesecina:
New Year's Eve, 1985
Dressing was one of Erik's joys. He might be
seen in all shades of green. Or in a bowler and tux. But always natty and
coordinated.
In my mind he was intense, self-confident, generous, argumentative, creative,
and giving.
During one of our last visits Erik expressed a strong wish that we plant some
flowers that he had bought. He had designed the flower bed and clearly wanted to
create some extra beauty before he left us. I took photos of the results -
they came out eerily double exposed.
Franziska married Erik and cared for him with tremendous
generosity and empathy during his illness. For much of that time she was
his only caregiver. Finally Erik consented to receive hospice care.
[Barry Benepe] I met Erik through my wife, Judith Spektor, in 1985. He
eagerly joined Greenmarket that year and became life-long
manager of the Brooklyn Borough Hall (and other markets)
where he developed a devoted following among farmers and
customers alike. [Erik helped us beautify our house...]
installing a beautiful stained glass window under a light in the shower partition,
laying a tile counter into the wee hours of the morning, and dragging
over a huge willow tree to plant by the stream. In the early hours of
the morning we could hear the plaintive cries of his fiddle as he played by
the well to the rising sun.
Erik was commited to his work, argumentative, passionate and gentle, remaining
sensitive to the feelings of those around him. He is missed, but always
present.
[Susan Cohen DeStefano] What I remember best about Erik is his
willingness to try almost anything. He expressed very firm
opinions about the things he liked or disliked -- but I
never saw him dismiss anything "out-of-hand," because he might not
enjoy it. My impression was that, as far as Erik was
concerned, you never could tell how much you'd like
something until you'd tried it; not experimenting might
mean missing out on something you might really love -- and that would be
a great loss.
I don't ever remember hearing Erik raise his voice in anger or
annoyance. Yes, he had strong opinions -- but, at least
when I heard him, the strength of those opinions was
always expressed through quiet, reasonable discussion and
persuasion. He never seemed to seek out credit for what he'd done; he did
it, that was all. Perhaps that's why he was able to accomplish so much, and
endear himself to so many of us.
[Sylvia Sussman] Dear Erik,
We were great buddies for years, and I loved you dearly then, and still love
my memories of the wonderful times we all spent together. You were smart,
witty, and great fun. I'll always cherish these "snapshots" of you: the times at Columbia when you turned a dance evening into a
party; the beautiful St. Valentine's Day red velvet and
white lace heart box of chocolates (still among my
souvenirs), and the note that came with it saying that you
could afford it because you bought it after the holiday at half
price, but the affection was full price; Meg's wedding in Princeton where
you did a slow lindy in your inimitable style to a Bulgarian tune; the
New Year's Eve parties at Noel's; my parties where you and Noel were principal
fiddlers; the party at Randy and Sarah's house when Noel, you, and
I got to my driveway at 5:00 AM and your hilarious words of comfort when
I worried about my reputation in that staid community; your clowing kitchen
staff persona at Buffalo Gap mealtimes; the group dancing "with just
belts on" looking exactly like the Matisse painting. One of my best memories
is the 20's weekend at Buffalo Gap when we went to the barn for the
after party to be greeted by three zoot-suited "hoods" with
"violin cases", in front of a
"speakeasy" called a funeral parlor. The highlight for
me was the Tango that you and Florette danced, she, in a slinky gown and
you, in an elegant tight-fitting tuxedo looking just like the Elie Hadelman
sculpture at MOMA. You were delighted with that description, and when
I hear Erik Erikson that is what I remember first. It was always a pleasure
to dance next to you, the Mutt and Jeff of the dance world. You would
always light up the room whenever you entered it, and still light up my
memories when I think of those special times. You will always be in my thoughts
and in my heart.
Love,
Sylvia Sussman
[Alice and Robert Shapiro] We first met Erik at one of Noel's New Year's Eve parties. "Who is this tall man clad in black a la Johnny Cash?" He was busy talking. People were gathered around him. We had to meet him. We approached this handsome, pepper-haired man and introduced ourselves. We finally met Erik Erikson. The conversation centered around food (Try this, it's delicious and good for you...),nutrition(Gary Null says that...), and, of course, music. His gentle demeanor, knowledge, and inteligence captured us. We were hooked and became fast friends. We will always remember Erik's specialness: his concern for others; his ear for a good story; his joy in telling a good story; and his lovability that captured the heart like a warm, sloppy smile. We miss him dearly.
[Judy Olson] No matter how fat or weird I felt, Erik was always glad to see me. He never seemed to judge me as harshly as I judged myself, or judge me at all. He reminded me of the pleasure of just being with people. That transformed anything I went to where he was there, and made the world a happy place. Through him I had a sense of friendship at its essence, without artifice. I trusted him as I trusted few other people. Erik, I will miss you very much.
[Bill Hunt, Sydney, Australia (January 2005)]
(Click here for Bill's pictures)
Erik was perhaps the most inspiring person I have ever met.
It was at a student work camp in western Norway in the late 1950's that I first encountered that charismatic New Yorker. As noted below, we moved on together with two other Australian friends ['Borneo Hay' and Bob Elmslie] to Oslo and Stockholm over a year or so and later I stayed with him in London.
In those days, Erik's talented singing and guitar playing were de rigueur at every party. It was Erik who made all the thank-you speeches and whose painting of a local scene would be our farewell present for some Norwegian kindness.
It was Erik who caused me to take up judo - I lasted one lesson after which I spent a couple of weeks in an Oslo hospital with a back injury.
It was Erik, too, who insisted on our reaching the top of three mountains while his three Australian friends were rather hoping our guide would turn for the safety of home.
He never did return our photographic slides of the Scandinavian escapades. When we wrote to ask for them, his response was that we would have to visit him in New York to pick them up.
I wondered how Erik had found time to absorb so much information about so many things and remember that frustrated by my relative ignorance, I said 'Erik, there must be something you don't know. Do you know who Don Bradman is'?
Don Bradman was a famous [at least in Australia] cricketer. Got him at last!
I later shared his London studio for a few weeks and the only hiccup in the confined space [sometimes also shared by his friend, Sheila] was when I apologised for eating his last egg. Erik, clearly annoyed and hurt: 'how can you apologise for such a thing? Don't you realise that anything of mine belongs to you, too'?
We lost touch until 1982, when on a too short trip to New York, Erik insisted that after not having seen each other for 22 years we must meet at the World Trade Centre.
He took my wife Margaret and me to his mother's house in New Jersey. Just before lunch Marg developed an excruciating head-ache.
Erik said 'I may be able to fix that. Could I try?' and after a minute or two's manipulation of her neck, the headache was gone. He hasn't lost it, I thought - a man of many parts.
He showed us as much of his beloved city as was possible in four days, insisting that we jog through the Rockefeller New Guinea exhibition at the Metropolitan so that we could catch it before closing time.
We had never considered a skyscraper to be a thing of beauty until we heard Erik's colourful and knowledgeable explanations and descriptions.
I always respected his integrity and values which seem even more admirable in these more materialistic times.
He was multi-talented, warm, funny, generous,often outlandish, original and although he died nearly six years ago, I can think of four Australians who loved him in the late 1950's and remember him as if it was yesterday.
